


Paradise Found

by DarkmoonSigel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bakery, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Fluff, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Not Crowley or Aziraphale, SO MUCH FLUFF, Set in Soho, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Trans, Trans Character, but if you know me, there are OCs, they fuck like bunnies, time jumps, you know I write them well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: Fluff and sweetness about the Ineffable Husband’s favorite bakery.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 129





	Paradise Found

**Author's Note:**

> Things are really fucked up right now. Here is some fluff. I hope it helps.

Not everyone got to live out their dreams. Lily was one of those lucky few, but it had been hard won, like ‘several surgeries later after getting disowned, and then a five thousand mile move to another country to start a new business’ kind of hard. Perhaps it was because of the journey’s struggle that she was so attentive to others. 

Mr. Fell had been a loyal customer since their bakery opened in Soho almost fifteen years ago. Paradise Found Bakery was easy to find, the outside painted bright pool blue. It had two levels, the little family living above the bakery. Most of the bottom level was kitchen that was connected to the front of the house by a large display case and register. There was a long counter for making tea, coffee, and everything else caffeinated. There was still enough room for a cozy dining area, the walls of which were a cheerful canary yellow that was hidden under an ever growing number of Polaroid pictures of the family and their customers. There were six tables painted spring green in all, sectioned off from the counter by a thin partition. 

At first glance, Mr. Fell appeared to be an older, middle aged man with an outdated fashion sense, ignorable and forgettable in passing. In that long white coat of his, the man looked like a lost Victorian librarian to Lily.

Her newly adopted young daughter, Addie, seemed to fall love him upon first sight. At the worst possible moment during a surprise rush, the four year old wandered out from behind the counter to stare up at the strange man with the biggest grin on her face, giggling into her soft little hands at him.

The odd thing was she kept looking behind him and up, even going so far to walk in circles around him. Lily assumed it was because the man’s hair was so blonde that it was white. 

“Oh, hello there, little one.” The man with the kind blue eyes said in a soft soothing voice. It was the kind of voice that you wanted to hear news from in white waiting rooms.

“Hi! I’ve never seen you in here before. Sorry about the wait.” Lily greeted him brightly, wincing as someone in the dining part of their bakery jumped in surprise at the sudden change in volume. 

Boris and her were British citizens now, but Lily was still very much a loud, overly friendly American at heart. She tended to have an adverse effect on the older English gentlemen types who would have preferred a much quieter greeting while perusing the various macaroons in the display case.

The man remained unfazed though, smiling brightly back at her, taking a bit of her breath away for some reason. 

“Lily, don’t fret over me. I can see you’re quite busy, my dear. I run my own business, a rare bookshop, just up the way so I understand completely.” The man soothed, tension Lily hadn’t even noticed until now leaving her neck and shoulders. “Besides, I have Addie here for company, isn’t that right?

“Dance.” Addie demanded, not bothering to wait for an answer as she took off her shoes to put her bare little feet on top of what looked to be antiquated yet expensive looking shoes. Her chubby little hands reached up to grab onto his thumbs to steady herself. She had recently learned how to do this with her new father, and now it was the only thing she wanted to do. 

“Oh, honey, come back over here, and quit bothering that poor man.” Lily finished dropping a fresh pot of tea with a table, rushing over to relieve the man of her pushy child only to have another patron call for her attention. 

“She’s perfectly all right. I’ll see to her. Do what you need to do.” The man told her before starting to sing softly in time to their shuffling dance. 

Though their exchange was brief, Lily took several things away from it. The owner of the bookshop up the way was possibly the most English person she had ever met in her entire life, that he was also very cultured, and that he was gayer than a bedazzled ribbon twirler in a Pride parade. He also had an amazingly beautiful singing voice, the kind of which caused a hush to fall over the room so that they could listen in.

“Thanks! You’re an angel!” Lily said the moment she got some breathing room, which came sooner than she had expected. Everyone from before suddenly became nicer and more patient, leaving with smiles on their faces. Lily had to admit that she was feeling good about life herself. 

“So I’ve been told.” Addie’s dance partner said, finishing his song to come to a halt. “I’m afraid that’s the end of it, dear Addie.”

“Okay. I like your singing.” Addie said, “Will you come back?”

“I do believe that is a distinct possibility if that brioche tastes as good as it smells.” The grown man in the suit wiggled, actually wiggled in anticipated delight. 

Lily was glad she hadn’t been drinking anything at the time, quickly turning her back. Getting a loaf of brioche like that was her intent all along, Lily wished there was a subtle way for her to bring Boris to the front to see this adorable man. 

“On the house.” Was what Lily did instead.

“Oh, I simply couldn’t.” His mouth said ‘no’, but those eyes locked on the brioche were mostly definitely saying ‘oh fuck yes’.

“But you are, because I insist.”

“Well, if you insist, it would be ever so rude of me to decline. Thank you.” The man accepted the the bread with excited finger flexes. “It was lovely to meet you all, but I must be getting back. I have company. Until next time. Ta-ta!”

“Bye, Aziraphale!” Addie called after him. 

It was only then when he left with the brioche that Lily realized that she had never told him their names, and he had never told them his. 

A.Z. Fell started to stand out to Lily because once he began to speak with you, something about him changed. Lily has been trying for the better part of a decade to place her finger on it. That was one of the reasons why Mr. Fell, who eventually turned out to be really Aziraphale of all names in creation, found himself getting treated to an extra cup of tea, or some new treat that they were working on. 

The owner of the funny little book shop up the road, the one that was infamously famous in Soho and in more private circles for not actually selling books, Aziraphale was charming, quaint in his own unique way, thoughtfully kind, and had an insatiable passion for baked goods. He was also an odd duck, but Lily liked odd ducks, being one herself, being married to one, and had adopted one as well.

For someone who didn’t sell anything, Mr. Fell had an overly strict schedule, the blonde haired man in the funny same suit always turning up around 3ish every Monday afternoon for a cup of tea, cream with no sugar, and whatever his heart told him to get that day from the bakery case. He always left with a loaf of brioche, telling Lily and her husband, Boris, that one would have to go to Paris to even begin to compare to theirs. 

Boris was so tickled pink by their strange neighboring bookseller that he would make an effort on Mondays to create something special for Mr. Fell. It came to a point that Boris started watching the Great British Bake-off so that he could try his hand at obscure, foreign baked goods.

Without fail, Mr. Fell somehow always managed to not only recognize Boris’s attempts, but he would also give them an impromptu lesson about its origin and history. Boris bet Lily every week that this would the one that Mr. Fell would fail at.

“I say, is that a Prinsesstårta, my dear girl? I haven’t seen one done that well in ages! Did you know that the original Swedish recipe for it did not include any fruit?”

And every week, Lily won her kiss.

“I didn’t know that. Boris, did you know that? He made the more modern version of it. I hope that’s okay? It has my homemade strawberry jam in there.” Lily grinned over at Boris, the giant baker who was in the habit now of being upfront on Monday around 3ish.

“I’m not one to quibble about such things, especially when it looks so scrumptious.” Mr. Fell practically cooed at the case, wiggling with unadulterated joy. Boris would never admit it to anyone other than Lily, but he waited for that wiggle. That wiggle was better than a Michelin Star to him. 

The way Mr. Fell reacted to something he thoroughly enjoyed was practically indecent, his moans sometimes drawing concerned looks from the more prudish patrons. Lily would direct a quelling look at anyone who even breathed funny in Mr. Fell’s direction though, so he was left to sigh and moan to his heart’s content over the nicer sweet things in life. 

Lily had already plating his Prinsesstårta up, the one that was decorated with a few extra marzipan roses. She handed over his just-as-ready tea as well so that he could quietly retreat to the corner he liked.

Lily and Boris were beginning to think of it as Mr. Fell’s corner after a year or so. Without fail, no matter how busy they were, and they were sometimes quite busy around 3ish, Mr. Fell somehow always managed to procure his preferred seating without fail. Once seated, he would delight in whatever he was having while reading a book, though he would still dance with Addie whenever she asked, or told him that was what they were doing. 

The only other customer who was stranger than Mr. A.Z.Fell had to be Mr. Crowley. 

Strutting like his hips made other people pay for things, Mr. Crowley would slink into the bakery whenever, and had done so for the better part of a decade. Barely bothering to look at the case, he would lean against the counter like he were perching. 

“Got anything with chocolate?” Was asked with no greeting, or inquiry about personal health. 

“Yeah, loads. Turn your head to the left with you’re eyes are open, dummy.” Addie, their daughter, lived to interact with Mr. Crowley. He was always toeing the line of rude without managing to fully cross it. Addie took it upon herself to toe it right back with a fierce pride. She was the only reason they knew his name after all. He always paid in cash, and was not one for small talk...usually.

Anyone else would be pissed off by having a kid sass them back, but Mr. Crowley genuinely seem amused by it, a corner of his razor mouth ticking up in a barely suppressed grin. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” He shot back.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Addie was pro by now, unfazed. 

“How do you know I’m not?” 

“Cause all the professions you’re dressed for work at night.” That got a bark of laughter from the strange man. By now it was old hat for Addie, their daughter making a point to sass him even when she was little.

Back when she was five, Mr. Crowley, who had been dubbed Stick Man by Boris at that point In time, had made the grievous mistake of perching like he did on surfaces upon the display case, ignoring the sign not to do such a thing. Addie toddled right over to tell him off about it, which went along the lines of ‘If you can’t read then you’re too dumb to buy cake’.

“I can’t read.” Stick Man told her, the harsh lines of his face suddenly softening as he pushed off of the case. 

“So you’re dumb then.” Addie decided all the five year old wisdom at the time.

“Addie!” Lily left off manning the counter full of coffee orders to retrieve her daughter before things got ugly. 

Except they didn’t. Apparently, Addie’s assessment of him was the funniest thing he had heard in a long time, the lanky man laughed loud at her impertinence. 

“Delightful. She’s going to be such a menace when she gets older.” Stick Man said as he settled down, not bothering to take off his sunglasses to wipe the corners of his eyes. “Why don’t you chose for me then since I’m so incompetent?”

“Follow me, dummy.” Addie said, taking the man’s hand who glanced up and over at Lily to make sure it was all right. She nodded, but had a look on her face that she hoped successfully convey that she would kick seven shades of shit out of him it he tried anything untoward to her little girl. 

“Addie, you shouldn’t call people names.” Lily grumbled, the woman buying rolls from her giving such a judgmental look for the lapse in parenting skills. As luck, or other beings would have it, the woman would end up dropping all those rolls before she got them home. 

“Oh, you can’t get mad at her for calling a spade...whatever you call it.” Stick Man tried, having more patience than Lily would have ever expected. He also bought whatever Addie pointed to, the little girl explaining at length why he should.

“A spade?” Lily finished for him when it was obvious that he wasn’t going to. 

“Exactly!”

“Addie, why don’t you practice being polite? Introduce yourself.”

“But he already knows my name.” Addie pointed out, getting the man to laugh again.

“Yes, but do you know his?” Lily prompted, dying a little inside.

“Yeah, I do. It’s the Stick Man.” Addie said her smart ass little shit of a daughter.

“I am so sorry,” Lily began. She stopped when she noticed that the man was shaking. Lily wondered for a moment if she needed to call for Boris. Great bouts of laughter dissuaded her of this as great big belly laughs came out of the thin man, tears of mirth escaping his glasses to stream down his face. 

“Out of the mouths of babes.” The man managed out after he got himself back under control, turning away so that he take off his sunglasses to wipe away the wetness. He put them back on before turning back to regard Addie with a wide grin of sharp looking, crooked teeth. “It’s oddly refreshing to not be called ‘Snake Man’ for once.”

“Is that your name?”

“No, it is not. You first.”

“I’m Addie.” The little girl curtsied.

“You call that a curtsy? That was terrible. A curtsy like that could get you beheaded in some courts.” The nameless man told her. He then stepped his right leg back, and dropped down while extending his right arm to offer his palm face down in the most graceful curtsy Lily had even seen in her life. He stayed like that for a moment. 

“You’re supposed to take my hand in greeting.” He prompted, wiggling his fingers at her. Addie did so in a very American style of handshake. “Close enough.” He snickered.

“You didn’t do it right.” Addie pouted up at him.

“I most certainly did.”

“You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Ah, got me there. Anthony J. Crowley, at your service, tiny human of the bake shop, Lady Addie.”

“What about the rest of it?”

“There’s no more.”

“What’s the ‘J’ stand for then?”

“Nothing. It’s just a ‘J’ really.” Mr. Crowley shrugged in a way that moved his whole body with it.

“That’s dumb.” Addie decided. 

“Addie! That’s enough!” Lily was at her wit’s end. Mr. Crowley remained unaffected. 

“It’s fine. She’s in good company on that one actually. He got used to it though, so you should too, at the very least for your poor mother’s sake.” Mr. Crowley grinned over at Lily who was fretting. “Don’t bend yourself out of shape over it. They grow in and out of phases. This is just one of them.”

After being led around some more and told to buy more things, Mr. Crowley left with one of their biggest to-go boxes, and a new nickname. 

Since then, Mr. Crowley had been coming in almost as long as Mr. Fell. Lily truly believed that the man returned sometimes just to be told off by their daughter, but not in a creepy sort way. To Lily, it was more of a ‘what is she going to say next’ kind of thing, Mr. Crowley appreciative of quick wit and a sharp tongue apparently. 

At least that was part of it. The other part was that he was would always buy a ton of pastries and other baked goods with an inevitable loaf of brioche mixed in the order. Lily and Boris doubted he was the one actually consuming it all. Mr. Crowley was rail thin, mostly made of skin, bones, and a strange mixture of anxiety and attitude. They had only ever seen him consume coffee, black as night and sweet as sin. 

The ‘Mr.” was eventually dropped from Crowley’s name later on when she came into the shop one day, dressing stunningly sleek in a red and black leather catsuit, towering over others in heeled boots. Addie was beyond the moon over it, the two instantly falling into chat about Crowley’s flawless makeup. Lily asked what pronouns she preferred, delighting Crowley who told them to use whatever they thought applied to them that day.

So it came as quite a shock to all of their systems when the gentle Mr. Fell, bookish aficionado of everything baked, came in one Monday with Crowley, gender bending purveyor of snark, trailing in behind him. 

Lily never suspected a thing, didn’t even assume for a second that they were together as they stood in line, Mr. Fell exchanging greetings with her, and Addie commented on Crowley’s outfit which was a blend of genders this time round. That was until Crowley leaned up against the case, the one they knew they shouldn’t lean up on, and said, “Get whatever you like. My treat, angel.”

Lily barely kept it together in time to make it to the back, leaving Addie to cover, who promptly smacked Crowley on the back of their head with a rolled up newspaper for ignoring the sign again. 

“Oi! I’m a customer here! Where’s your sense of customer service?” Crowley squawked, going from suave to a wild clutter of limbs, much to Mr. Fell’s amusement. 

“Where your sense of fashion resides.” Addie gave him the once over. “Those shoes with that top? Really?”

“What do you know? You’re still wearing barrettes.”

“I know enough to put on a topcoat so my nail polish doesn’t chip like that.” 

Not bothering with words, Lily grabbed Boris by the front of his shirt, dragging him toward to make him peek out to the front. He watched as Addie rang up the unlikely pair, turning back speechless to his wife. 

“No.” 

“Yes!”

“Noooo.”

“Yes! They called him angel.”

“That could just be a nickname.”

“You didn’t hear how he sound it.” Lily repeating it back to the best of her ability, butchering it with her Midwestern accent. “That’s who they’ve been buying all the bread and other goodies for all along! Think about it! The brioche!”

“Damn. When you’re right, you’re right.” Boris conceded after watching them make their way to Mr. Fell’s corner, which was empty as per usual for him. Now that he had seen them together, it was as blatantly obvious as the nose on his very own face. “It’s always the quiet ones. I wonder how they met.”

“I’m more curious if they know that they’re together.” Lily thought out loud as she watched them.

“You don’t think they are?”

“If they are, they’re not out.”

“I bow to the power and accuracy of your gaydar.” Boris said, kissing the back of Lily’s head as she continued to spy on the pair. 

“Oh my god, they are so cute. It’s disgusting. Crowley is just watching him eat.” Addie rushed over the moment she was free to join her mother.

“I would too. The noises that man makes sometimes.” Boris waggled his eyebrows. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you strutting around after he leaves. You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type.” Lily playfully smacked Boris’s behind with a towel he started to retreat back to his kitchen, stopping for a cup of coffee along the way. 

“What can I say? Your man knows how to bake, and he bakes well. Porn sound well.” Boris said, quirking an eyebrow at his wife. 

“Don’t you have something to knead?” Lily left off spying long enough to roll her eyes at him. 

“I might. I definitely know that I’ll knead you later.” Boris leered through his dad joke. 

“You’re both so gross. I’m going to go back to watching the other two eye-fuck each other.” Addie moaned, throwing a towel at her father’s head. 

“Language!” Lily dramatically gasped at their giggling daughter as she ran off. 

Like any couple, they had their ups and downs, all of which were noted by the family. Mr. Fell would sometimes come in by himself, looking a bit lost and so heartbreakingly sad. Those were the days he would get hot cocoa instead of tea, and some chocolate nibbles to distract himself with. Those were the days that Addie would ask him to dance with her again, though she no longer had to stand on his feet. Singing always seemed to cheer him up. It made everyone else happy too. 

Other times, Crowley would limp in more than swagger, looking pissed off at the world, more than usual anyway. During these times, he or she would actually peruse the bakery case, like they was looking for something that would fix all their problems in life. Boris would invite them to the back, to the warm heart of the bakery where the two of them would knead dough together for a while. Afterward, Crowley usually ended up leaving with a much larger than usual box of various somethings, and a loaf of brioche. 

During the good times, the pair would flit in together, more involved with each other than any one or anything else. When they were happy with one another, the rest of the world could have made of cardboard for all they cared. 

It was love. Lily knew it was, but it was the kind of love that expected to be hurt for feeling it. The two of them moved so carefully yet intimately around one another. They longed for each other like the moon longed for the sun to find that longing returned, but they could only touch one another at dawn and dusk. 

Until recently...something monumental must have happened because now they were a pair of handholding, kissing lovebirds. They practically clung together where once they would shy away from one another.

The family looked more and more forward to Mondays now. Everything just felt brighter when they arrived, the effect of their presence lingering throughout the week even after they left. 

“What do you think Crowley will be today?” Boris said, glancing up at the store clock. 

“You wanna make a bet? Usual stakes?” Lily asked she made their tea, and set out their cups. The pair had their own cups, and it had been that way for some time now. Mr. Fell’s preferred cup was made of white porcelain that featured a pair of wings for a handle. He had an entire set of them back at his bookshop. 

Crowley’s own was a mug featuring cheerful yellow rubber ducks on a bright blue background. For whatever reason, the ducks glowed in the dark. Originally, it had been a plain black cup, but Addie replaced it at some point with the ducks. Crowley never said a thing about it, other than to pause once when it became a thing. 

“Always. You know I like to keep things interesting.”

“Well then, make your bet- man, woman, or other?”

“Man.”

“Is that your final prediction? 

“It is.”

“I’ll say, female then.”

“Mom wins.” Addie called over her shoulder, settling the bet. She got a good look at the couple before they walked in. 

“To the victor go the spoils.” The tall man leaning down considerably to kiss his tiny wife. 

“I should call someone official like about this inappropriate workplace behavior.” Addie sighed overly dramatic over her math homework. 

“Don’t tempt me into being inappropriate.” Boris swooping in to kiss attack his tiny wife before retreating to the back, Lily happily shrieking from the onslaught.

“I’m upgrading it to hostile.”

“Good to see you’re finally accepting that part of yourself.” Crowley said by way of greeting. 

“The only thing hostile is that outfit. Do your balls lose feeling in pants that tight?” The teenager giving him a very unimpressed look back. 

“Who says I have any at the moment?” Crowley grinned. 

“Hello, Addie. Hello, Lily! Hello, Boris!” Mr. Fell called to the back. 

“I’ll be right out. I have something new for you to try.” Boris poking his head around a corner just in the nick of time.

“Jolly good. I’m looking forward to it.” Aziraphale wiggled.

Lily was happy to see that today was no exception in the public displays of affection department, Crowley nibbling in Mr. Fell’s ear as he studied today’s selection, indecisive as always. He didn’t seem to notice that Crowley was giving his eternal white coat a good run for its money in the coverage department. 

“You wanna nibble on something that’s actually food, or do you want to keep scarring me for life?” Addie said, ruining the jibe by smiling. She couldn’t help it. They just looked so happy. “If you ever make an angel food cake joke, I promise you, I’ll make Mom ban you for life.”

“And deny yourself the pleasure of my company? I never took you as a masochist.” Crowley finally pulling himself away, but kept himself from going too far by linking their fingers. 

“No, more of a sadist because I keep letting you back.” 

“Please do go ahead of us. I haven’t decided, and we visit for a bit with these lovely ladies anyway.” Aziraphale waved at the two well dressed men queuing up as he moved himself and Crowley out of the way to their more appropriate ‘visiting spot’.

There was a nook by the counter that was sectioned off from the rest by a thin partition that everyone tended to overlook because it led into the back which was no-man’s-land to anyone other than Boris. 

There was a comfy tartan covered chair for Mr. Fell who usually had his first cuppa with Lily before moving into his corner, and a tall spindly stool that Mr. Crowley could perch on to his heart’s content when he was trading entertaining insults and observations with Addie. The chairs lived there for the two of them. 

The couple merely nodded politely at Mr. Fell, but both gave Mr. Crowley a long top to bottom look over, obviously undressing the lean man with their eyes. Mr. Fell and Crowley were so involved with each other, and what Boris might have created for Aziraphale today that they didn’t seem to notice. 

Whether intentionally or not, the couple reminded everyone about their presence a moment later.

“Someone’s got a sugar daddy.” Was heard through the thin partition. Mr. Fell left off admiring a truly gorgeous Black Forest cake to smirk over at Crowley. Lily realized that they had noticed, and just not cared about it.

“Good for them.” Lily thought to herself as she helped someone decide between wheat and white bread. They ended up getting ciabatta instead.

“They think you’re a kept man.” Mr. Fell chuckled, clearly amused.

“Oh, if only they knew.” Crowley snorted.

“He’s either rich, or as a huge dick.” Said the other man, sounding salacious about it.

“He would have to looking like that.” Made Crowley frown, and Addie and Lily began to get out of their seats. Aziraphale waved them off, rolling his eyes.

“It’s tragic being wasted like that on someone so basic. They shouldn’t be together” made both Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley looked like they had just been slapped. It was a complex expression of fear, anger, embarrassment, and ultimately, sadness. Lily knew it well, having seen it reflected back at her in the mirror growing up. Mother and daughter exchanged a deep wordless look before springing into action. 

Crowley and Mr. Fell jumped when Lily kicked open the divider that separated the front from the back, like a gunslinger in a bar looking for some trouble. 

“You two stay put.” Lily ordered with a steel and cold in her voice that was not to be meddled with. As Addie ran off to back with a fierce grin on face to go get her father, Lily made her way over to the table. Without any warning, the mini yet mighty owner flipped the table, sending the couple’s drinks and food flying in all direction. Two very stunned men gaped up at her, still seated as they tried not to choke on their food. 

“There are enough people in this world looking to tear us down so we suffer that their level. If you can’t elevate someone else, keep your damn mouth, and move on.” Lily spoke, making sure she was being loud enough to be heard all the way to the back. “You’re banned. I don’t ever want to see your faces in here again.”

“Have you lost your bloody mind, woman?” One started.

“What the-You can’t do that, you fucking nutter!” And the other finished. 

“Actually, she can.” Said a deep rumbling voice behind them. The usually hidden Boris strode out of the back, the kitchen depths revealing a mountain of a man. His arms covered up to his elbows in flour, Boris loomed over the cowering couple, his finely dusted clothing barely managing to contain all the hard flesh that lay beneath it. 

The pair yelped as they were bodily picked up by their collars, Boris easily showing them to the door like he was carrying two bags of flour.

“Double YEET!” Addie yelled as the couple were thrown out onto the street. “Good luck shopping in Soho, assholes! I’ve already let all the local businesses here know about you! 

“Alrighty then! We’re closing early today, folks! Everybody out!” Lily ordered, hands on her hips, her attitude immediately adding a foot to her height. Everyone filed out without complaint, at least nothing said aloud anyway. 

“Not you, dummies.” Addie said, grabbing the back of Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s coats. They were stunned enough into compliance to let her. Lily flipped the sign to ‘closed’, slamming the door shut to lock it with a look of satisfaction. 

“Wine?” Boris asked his wife. Addie let them go so she could set the table back upright. For the next part in cleanup, she got a broom, mop, and everything else she needed out of the closet. 

“Wine.” Lily said with a nod before turning back to them. “You boys like white or red?”

“Red?” Mr. Fell asked more than stated.

“What just happened?” Mr. Crowley looked back and forth between Boris, Lily and Addie.

“You’ve had a shock so it’s time we all took a moment for ourselves.” Lily smiled as she went to the display case, bringing the stunning Black Forest cake back with her to the table. “Have some wine. It should go well with this.” 

Boris poured four very full glasses of wine, opening another bottle to aid in this. He also poured Addie a much smaller glass, winking at his daughter as she joined them. Lily pretended not to notice. Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley joined them, looking cautious enough about it to break open Lily’s heart that much more.

“I recognized that look, the one you both got after what those waste of skin said.” Lily said as she cut and passed out the cake. “I know it. I lived it. You see, Boris used to be a Beatrice, and I identify as asexual.”

Those bombshells didn’t seem to faze either men. Mr. Fell simply nodded while Mr. Crowley just looked impressed. 

“We both got disowned by our families.” Boris continued for them. “We tried to make new ones in the LBGT community, but it wasn’t as welcoming as we were led to believe.”

“It got really ugly sometimes, enough times that we ended up saying ‘fuck it’, and created our own side.” Lily said easily now, at peace with the past. “When Boris was completely done transitioning, we decided to move here from the States. We changed our names, we buckled down, and in the end, somehow managed to open our corner of paradise.” 

“It was almost perfect, but not quite.” Boris said with a fond smile directed at Addie.

“Stoooooopppppp. You two are so embarrassing.” She groaned theatrically, her grin ruining the effect. 

“And then one day out of the blue, this one found us.” Lily reaching over to tap at a photo featuring a much littler version of the teenager that Aziraphale and Crowley were both familiar with. 

“Literally. I walked into this bakery, and never left.” Abbie enjoying their looks of confusion. “The two people who made me lost track of me, and then never bothered to do any follow up. I got to pick my parents.”

“In a way, we all chose to be a family, one that doesn’t have anything to do with blood.” Lily said, “We chose are own side.”

Lily saw her words land hard, Mr. Fell turning all misty eyed while Mr. Crowley grew unnaturally still.

“We all got a fresh start here. It seems like you two got one of your own.” Lily smiled, “Don’t let anyone take that away from you, not even for a second.”

What happened next was experienced a little bit differently by them all. Boris would recall later on that Mr. Fell took on a glow, golden light seeming to deep in through his pores. Lily was filled with a sudden sense of calm, one that made her feel like she could almost float outside of her own body. Addie saw what looked like the outline of wings that sprung from Mr. Fell’s back, his face obscured by the light coming off a halo. They all felt in unison a wave of pure love, euphoric enough to make they sway in place.

“Fucking hell, angel. Pull it back before they fall over.” Mr. Crowley snapped, doing something to counter the effect. It left them all blinking, feeling lightheaded, but in a good way, like they had all just had a good invigorating laugh. 

“Seems this wine packs a punch.” Boris could talk first, picking up a bottle to squint at the label. 

“Yes, the wine.” Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley said at the same time, but in very different tones of voice and inflection. 

“Mom, you can’t leave out the best part.” Addie said as she ran to the counter to ruffle through drawers.

“What’s that?” Crowley asked.

“We get to choose our family, and friends are the family we choose.” Addie found what she was looking for, a Polaroid camera in hand It was the one that had been used to decorate the bakery’s canary yellow  
walls. 

“Us?” Crowley asked in quiet, barely there voice. 

“Yeah, the two of you, dummy.” Addie got between them, taking a picture. “We’re adopting you.”

“Oh, that’s...” Mr. Fell started and stopped, obviously overcome at the moment.

“Don’t offer that so lightly. We’re a lot to handle.” Mr. Crowley warned, reaching over to hold Mr. Fell’s shaking hands. Their connection was like a lifeline. They were both trembling. It was subtle, but it was there. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Aziraphale whispered.

“We know you’re not human, either of you.” Addie rolled her eye at them as both their heads shot up to stare back at them, the pair attempted to bluster some sort of excuse out. It amounted to a lot of hissing, and unintelligible word choices. “You’re like famous for being the local cryptiods in Soho.” 

“Cryptiods?!” Crowley croaked out.

“Us?!” Aziraphale recovered enough to ask. “What’s a cryptiod? I’m most certainly not one.“

“All of Soho knows.” Lily told them gently, “Nobody cares, not in the way you think. We know that you do things here to help us, and keep us safe, and you have been doing so for a very long time, as far back as anyone can remember.”

“Let us take care of you for once.” Boris said, topping off all their glasses.

“B-but that’s...you see...I’m an angel.” Mr. Fell finally admitted, giving up. He jumped a little in surprise when Lily whooped loudly and got up to dance around her husband. 

“You owe me! Pay up!” Boris kissing his wife in payment. 

“Mom bet Dad you were angels like over three years ago.” Addie explained, “Dad dropped a fresh pan of brioche, and decided to catch it with his bare hands for some reason. Miraculously, the bread and his hands were just fine. Like it was, you know, a miracle.”

Crowley turned to stare at Mr. Fell, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I may have blessed the bakery once or twice in passing.”

“Try every week!” Crowley laughed.

“You really do have the best brioche I’ve found outside of Paris.” Mr. Fell confided, “But that could have been explained away by calluses or good luck. How were you sure?”

“Aziraphale, you told us your name. All we had to do was google it. You’re in Genesis 3:24 for fuck’s sake.” Addie laughed.

“Language.” Lily and Crowley said at once, the latter apologizing for the old habit. 

“C’mon, that was pretty good.” Boris chuckled. 

“I couldn’t find you though. Some weird looking magician bloke kept turning up.” Addie said as she waved the Polaroid. 

“Old Aleister? Yeah, that prick summoned me once. Liked my name so much that he stole it.” Crowley grumbled, looking embarrassed about something. “It’s why I added the ‘J’ to it.”

“Are you in the Bible too?” Lily asked.

“Oh yes, since the beginning.” Aziraphale began, “I was on apple duty, and he-“

“They can read up all about it if they want. It’s too long to tell it.” Crowley interrupted.

“Anyone important?” Addie poked to make the non-angel grimace.

“You won’t like it.” Crowley bit out.

“Let us decide that, dummy.”

“I am the Serpent of Eden, the Creator of Original Sin.“ Crowley said gravely, finally taking off those sunglasses that seemed like a permanent feature of his face to reveal what lay behind them. “I am a demon.”

He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but the humans sort of shrugging it off wasn’t one of them. Wondering if he missed something, Crowley gestured dramatically at his eyes. 

“You can buy contacts like that off of Amazon.” Addie pointed out, looking about as unimpressed as a proper teenager could. 

“I’m a demon. I’m evil. I’m wicked. I’m-“

“You’re not very good at it.”  
Addie cut through the bullshit.

“I’ll have you know I’m rather good at it.” Crowley argued. 

“You came in that one time, curled up in Aziraphale’s corner, and stayed there until we closed. Mum fed you those crispy cookies you won’t admit you like while Dad made you something to give to Aziraphale.” Addie crossed her arms to stare the demon down, the one who was looking more sheepish than demonic at the moment. 

“While we were in Spain, you showed up out of nowhere that time when Addie got separated from us when she got off at the wrong spot, and we continued on.” Lily said, her soft smile making Crowley blush. Looking over at Aziraphale didn’t help in the slightest, the angel already giving off a soft glow again, his eyes pools of deep watery blue love that threatened to drown Crowley if they kept this up.

“Yeah, I was bawling my eyes out cause I don’t know a lick of Spanish, or even where I was, and then there you were with that posh car of yours, telling me to get in so you can catch up with Mum and Dad at the next station.” Addie grinned as Crowley shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“And then there was-“ Boris began to reminisce. 

“Stop! Shut up! I get it! I’m rubbish at being a demon!” Crowley exploded in a flurry of waving hands and unsettled limbs to start pacing. 

“No more rubbish than I am at being an angel, my love.” Aziraphale said rather soppily, not help as he looked over at the demon like he had hung the moon. To make matters worse, but actually really better, Aziraphale rose to collect the demon into his arms, holding him close. Crowley slumped against him, all clinging limbs that wrapped tightly around him back. 

“Nobody’s perfect. Everyone has got a lot. You just have a lot more. We all for layers, like an onion.” Lily said. 

“Hold up. You got that from Shrek.” Crowley lifted his head long enough from Aziraphale’s shoulder to look incredulously at her before resting it again. “She got that from Shrek.” He complained to the angel.

“I have no idea what that is.” Aziraphale wasn’t exactly caught up on modern cinema. 

His last foray into the genre that he had enjoyed was ‘The Wizard of Oz’ back in 1939. He returned to it in 1977 because Crowley had wanted to see one of his spy movies. Aziraphale had not found the experience enjoyable. The movie had featured a seven foot giant with metal teeth called Jaws. Aziraphale felt that the character was an insult to higher intelligence, namely his own. 

“Yeah, so? It works.” Lily said, “We can all be just a bunch of onions in this soup of life. So, what do you think?”

“Take the damn picture.” Crowley muttered, waving them over to stand next to them. A new section of wall was soon decorated. 

Some of Addie’s favorites were actually a tie between Aziraphale holding her huge father as if he were an infant, and the one of her dancing with him like she used to as a little girl. It turned out that angels were really strong. 

Her mother’s own was the one where they’d had a girl’s night out with Crowley, the demon putting herself in charge of hair, makeup, and outfits. 

The one where they had all gone to the beach made Boris smile every morning as he made his coffee. It featured Crowley sitting on top of his shoulders, and the both of them atop Aziraphale’s own, who looked not the slightest bothered by the roughly 450 pounds resting on his shoulders, the angel more intent on enjoying his ice cream. 

Life went on as per usual after that, though their new family pictureS got a fair amount of attention.

There was this one time that men in dark suits had come in, wanting to make an offer Boris and Lily couldn’t refuse. After taking one look at the pictures though, they couldn’t leave the bakery fast enough. 

“Did you seriously make friends with the local cryptiods?” Marty stared at the photos. Aziraphale’s image tended to come out overexposed while the other one always looked underexposed. Photography wasn’t a strong suit for either being. 

“Even better. They’re family.” Addie grinned as she handed over their coffee and pastries. 

“Fucking hell, you’re all mental.” Marty shook his head in disbelief. 

“Is Aziraphale’s tattoo your work?” Addie asked, tapping her temple. 

“Nah, boss lady did it.” Marty thumbed her attention over to the heavily tattooed woman behind him crushing a croissant for breakfast like it was the last thing she was ever going to eat again. 

“Bought and paid for by him.” Blue said when her mouth was free to do so, brushing buttery crumbs off of her hands and face. “You know he’s not...well, you know...”

“We know.”

“That winged prick. I told you he’d done something to that picture you took of us, Blue.” Marty took one last look at the pictures to grumble at them.

“Let’s not call the local supernatural being names. You’ll live longer. Finish up. We’re fully booked.” Blue said as she left, already out the door. 

“She’s right you know.” Said a familiar voice, making Marty go white as a sheet as he noticed someone, something, sitting in his corner, a being that had been quietly reading a book. It was not alone, and even worse, the other human shaped thing sitting across from it had the mirror image of a very familiar looking white snake tattoo, but in black. 

“He much prefers to be called a bastard.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Your kudos use up all the film taking Polaroids. Your comments eat all the brioche.


End file.
